Audrey Harris
by idolsgirl
Summary: Anya and Xander's daughter Audrey lives in the post-Chosen world and tells us all about it. Today, it's breakfast at the Harris household.
1. Dads, names and bickering

Disclaimer: I own nothing! If I did, this would be an actual episode and I would be a lot more famous.

Spoilers: Nothing specific except for 'Chosen'.

A/N: In this fic, Anya did not die. If I get positive feedback, I'm going to go on with this and make it a post-Chosen which will have Audrey as a main character but will not be centred solely on her. If I go on, more of the story will be revealed (as in what happened after 'Chosen', where everyone is etc.). So, if you want to see this continued, you have to review (review even if you don't want more chapters! Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!)

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The last time they'd been to a hospital, they had just made the whole town of Sunnydale cave in on itself and had several major stab wounds and a couple broken bones to take care of. The occasion this time was definitely much more pleasant. Pleasant to the amount of ten.

Watching her reflection on the linoleum floor, Buffy thought of how quickly things had changed. Exactly a year and 43 days ago, she was busy chopping some ugly ubervamp's head off with her cool little scythe. Here she was, 430 days later, in a waiting room decorated with little paper teddy bear hangers in Cleveland Memorial Hospital waiting for Anya's little baby girl. Not to mention Andrew was dating. Wow.

She looked up to see said nerd and Dawn thumb wrestling, and Will and Giles discussing a different method of approaching diffident Slayers, her Watcher sipping some drinks-machine tea disgustedly. A second later, Xander burst in through the double door.

'She's here! She's fine!' were the first words out of his mouth. Willow beamed at him and jumped up to hug him tight. Dawn and Andrew squealed in delight, Buffy hugged Xander even tighter than Willow had and Giles shook his hand.

'Congratulations,' said the Watcher.

'I'm a Dad! I'm a Dad! Can you believe I'm a Dad?' Xander squeaked, all the time jumping around excitedly and moving his hands much in 'Dance of Capitalist Superiority' style (but without the actual money).

'Yes, yes, we are well aware of that, now could you please show us to your wife and daughter, Xander?' The 'just-father' stopped in mid-twirl.

'What? Oh, yeah. My wife and daughter,' Xander mumbled, slightly embarrassed. As he led them all down the hall, he turned around to face Giles and whispered gleefully: 'I'm a Dad! A parent!' Behind them, Dawn and Buffy succumbed to a fit of giggles, whilst Willow tried her best to keep a straight face. Andrew just watched Xander with a strange expression. 'Such a good man,' he said solemnly, his head cocked to one side.

They got to Anya and the baby's room soon enough. The nurse was friendly. She said she'd allow them all to stay inside as much as they wanted, even though it was a little crowded. Willow suspected this had something to do with the way the nurse was eyeing Xander's forearms. She had, after all, done so herself many times. Women all seemed to have a bit of a weak spot with Xander's manly forearms.

'Aw! Isn't she the cutest little thing!' Buffy exclaimed as she sat right next to the bed and began playing with the baby's tiny hand.

'Wow… She's so small! She's like a miniature person! And look! She's got Xander-eyes!' At this, Anya's eyes widened with horror. 'No! my child is going to have beady eyes!' she thought, panicking.

Dawn continued, unaware of the slight commotion she had caused in Anya. 'Have you decided what you're gonna call her?' she asked, from her seat on the other side of the bed.

Anya looked up at her. 'I was thinking Anyanka would b-'

'What?' Giles spluttered, a few droplets of his tea flying out of his mouth. He quickly tried to cover up. 'I-I mean, this tea, it's, uh, not like tea. Yes. Sorry. Please continue.'

'Giles, what are you saying?' Willow exclaimed, outraged. 'Anyanka is definitely _not_ a viable option for a name! I mean, are we crazy here? It's got a 'k' in it!' This got her some majorly weird stares. 'Right, so that isn't such a big deal, all right, I mean Xander's got an 'x' in it, right? So yeah, I guess, but see a 'k', it's just weird and strange, and maybe not 'cause so many names have 'k's in them and I'm going to stop now 'cause I'm scaring myself. Right. Sorry.'

'Thank you for your useless monologue,' Anya beamed at Willow, as the witch grinned sheepishly back. 'As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted twice, I was thinking,' she said, emphasizing the 'thinking', 'that Anyanka would be a nice name, but since I do not want my child to be victimised and tormented by other little annoyances of her age due to an unusual yet beautifully charming name, I decided upon "Audrey". And don't look at Xander, he doesn't get any say in this at all.' Anya ended happily. Xander just shrugged.

'Well, you know, we decided beforehand. She gets to name the girls, I get to name the boys.'

'Yes. We are going to make more. More puffy little pink humans for Anya and Xander! And they're all going to be girls so I can name them all! If they're boys, we can always trade them for cash. Like in that game. What's it called Xander?'

'Honey, you change the rules for that game every time we play it. You can't trade the babies for cash.'

'Oh. Then we'll just have to settle with the silly names you come up with!'

'What? I'm not the one who thought of An-'

'SO, Anya, why did you choose Audrey?' Giles asked the new mother, taking care to raise his voice high enough to override Xander's.

'Oh, you know, I was watching old American movies and I saw Audrey Hepburn. She was very beautiful. And I like her name.'

'Of course! Audrey Hepburn! Who could ever forget her? What an amazing woman this was! Always different, a truly free spirit, her turbulent love story with Spencer Tracy making her all the more interesting! Ah, the beauty, the charisma, the talent! Unforgettable are her Academy Award-winning appearances in numerous motion pictures; Morning Glory, Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, On Golden Pon-'

'Andrew, stop a sec…isn't that Katharine Hepburn?' Buffy interrupted with a slight frown.

'Katharine's got a 'k' in it…' Willow murmured, caught up in her own world.

'Kath- Of course!' he replied, chuckling nervously. 'Of course it is! Did you think I could make such a mistake? Obviously I was simply testing you all, and I am deeply saddened that it was not you, Rupert, to spot my obvious trick! I would expect a man of your age and experience to know a little bit more about great women! Tut-tut!' At this, Giles simply removed his glasses to scrub them furiously, whilst Andrew gave the others a pompous nod and Buffy a knowing wink.

By now, Willow had managed to come out of her world. 'So,' she said slowly, trying to bring the conversation back to a level normal people would call sane. 'Audrey, huh? Audrey Harris,' she said, trying the sound. Catching Anya's look, she said: 'O-or Audrey _Jenkins_-Harris. Well, Anya, I've got to give you that, it's a beautiful name. I am kinda surprised, though.'

'Surprised?'

'Yes. I mean, knowing you, I'd have expected you to name her, I don't know… Rugged Individualism Jenkins-Harris?' Giles and Dawn chuckled appreciatively at Willow's joke, whilst Anya frowned, looking offended. Xander and Buffy, however, looked blank.

'I would appreciate it if you stopped making jokes about my political beliefs. Not that I didn't think of giving my daughter such a lovely name, but I realised she might resent it if she grew up to be, D'Hoffryn forbid, a Democrat.'

'It's not a swear word, Anya! Anyway, isn't it the being victimised and tormented by other children that worried you?'

Anya dismissed the suggestion with a: 'Hmph. Of course not. Why should she be victimised for that?'

'Guys, excuse me. I didn't get the rugged individualism thing. You all laughed and I didn't. I feel stupid when everybody laughs and I don't. Could you explain for the non-intellectual population?' This question owned Buffy an superior look from Dawn.

'Did you ever actually go to history class?'

Both Buffy and Xander scoffed in unison. 'Are you crazy? History class is for sad people-'

'And you should always go because it's, uh, useful and, uh, interesting,' Buffy quickly cut in. 'Right Xander?'

'Of course! Only sad people don't take history!'

'He's a very unconvincing liar,' Anya told Dawn, who raised an eyebrow. 'Now could everybody please start paying attention to me again? Thank you. I'm the one who's had a stranger pushing down on her uterus for four hours and a 3 and a half kilo thing come out of her in three pushes, so I think me and the thing deserve to be the centre of attention. Am I right Xander? I'm not asking for too much, am I?'

'No honey,' he said softly, and pecked her forehead.

'Thank you. I wanted to tell you the other reason I chose Audrey as the name for my- our, little girl. If she's Audrey, she can have the most wonderful and sweet endearing little nickname: Aud!' Anya exclaimed, in a state of complete happiness.

Buffy snorted. '"Aud"?' she smirked. 'What kind of a nickname is "Aud"?'

Dawn mouthed an 'Oops' to Giles who sighed and resigned himself to watch some more bickering.

Anya's face, instead, was a mask of pure indignation.

'Excuse me?' she almost yelled. 'I don't see how you can even express an opinion on the matter. What kind of a nickname is "Buffy"?'

'Oh dear,' Giles stated in a barely audible whisper. Willow and Dawn were both fighting furiously to hold back the waves of mirth which were threatening to break loose any moment.

'"Buffy" is _not_ a nickname, Anya! You've known me for how long now, five years? And you still don't know that it's my real name?' Buffy yelled, completely outraged.

'Well, I never thought such an ugly 5-letter word could actually be a proper name!'

'Oh God…' Xander sighed, his head in his hands. The bomb had been dropped, and Buffy flushed in fury, her hands squeezed dangerously in fists.

'Well, geez, now I'm offended, _Anya_. That's a bit rich coming from you, isn't it?'

'For your information, _Buffy_, my name contains only four letters,' the ex-demon said smugly.

Buffy spluttered incoherently, at a loss on how to answer such an undeniable argument. Willow decided she just couldn't hold laughter back any longer unless she said something.

'Technically, your name is seven letters long.'

'Yes, well, luckily I am not a crazy person who sees invisible letters where there aren't any! Please stay out of this argument, Willow, it is strictly between me and _Buffy_.'

'Hey, I'm not a crazy person! And, hello, you're forgetting your own name! A-N-Y-A-N-K-A!' said Willow, counting each of the letters with her fingers as she said them separately. Then, she held her two hands up, her right hand completely open (as in 'five') and her left completely closed except her thumb and index finger. The total was quite obviously and undeniably a seven. Willow grinned behind her outstretched arms, and Buffy wore a triumphant expression, although technically, Willow's establishing of 'Anyanka' being formed of seven letters did not score any points in her favour for the argument.

Anya also found herself spluttering incoherently after Willow's undeniable assertion.

'Well, I'm certainly glad we got that settled!' Giles declared, finally placing his glasses back where they belonged after having worn them thin.

'Oh yes!' Xander heartily agreed. 'I'm going to call the nurse now, before any of you ladies start arguing again and make Audrey cry.'

Anya looked up at him and smiled. 'You called her Audrey!' She lifted Audrey up, or rather pulled Xander down, and took her little fist to point towards him. 'See, little one? That's your daddy! Daaa-ddy. He is fit and well-built!' she stated as if it were the most vital piece of information in the world.

'Oooh, be careful Anya, you don't want her lusting after her own father!' Buffy said with mock seriousness.

'Nah, she wouldn't,' Xander whispered, beaming. He picked his little girl up and planted a little kiss on her soft whitish hair. 'Hello, Audrey Harris.'

At this moment of fatherly tenderness, both Dawn and Andrew emitted some very audible 'Aaww!''s.

Shortly after, a fake cough was heard coming from Anya's bed. 'Jenkins-Harris,' she said.

'Now now, Anya, do you really want your daughter to have such a long name? What if she too decides to give her children her own surname as well as her husband's?' Giles reasoned.

'Oh. Right. Then my grandchildren would have names like those Latin American ones. That would be uncomfortable. Not bad, but definitely uncomfortable.' There were a few seconds' silence. Then: 'Fine, Harris is okay.'

And so, Mr and Mrs Alexander Harris' daughter was officially named Audrey Harris. She had her whole life ahead of her. A long, healthy, happy one.


	2. Sisterly love

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Audrey, Hallie and any other characters you don't recognise.

A/N: We have jumped 15 years into the future after the prologue. Everything is now in Aud's POV (and in first person. I'm not particularly an expert in the first person, so constructive criticism is even more appreciated than usual. Please review!). This chapter introduces Aud and Hallie, and to a certain extent, Nikki. Enjoy (and please, please review!). I realise there isn't much Scoobiness but I intended this to be a fic about Aud and how she sees everyone and everything around her. I hope you'll like it anyway.

A/N 2: Thank you to those who reviewed the first chapter. ESR: Thanks! And yes, aw daddie Xander!, Sabia: Thanks for reviewing everything I post!, xanya-forever: I hope you like this too (although there isn't much 'Xanya' going on yet)

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Hallie's borrowed my make-up again. OK, perhaps 'borrowed' is not the most accurate word, since it implies actually asking for things. So maybe 'stealthily removed from my room in my absence' is a little better. Yes, definitely better.

She's got this party at The Silver tonight. There's this excessively rich girl in her class, like richer than Bill Gates, whose father can actually afford to rent the club for a whole night to give his daughter a birthday party. And I think Hallie feels the need to look like a slut even more than she did the last time she stole my make-up, because I've just noticed my liquid eyeliner is missing too. I swear, if dad sees her before she manages to sneak out, he's going to freak. I mean, last week, I saw her going to yet another party and I almost pulled a responsible parent on her and tried to stop her from going out looking like she was. And on that occasion, no liquid eyeliner was involved. Believe me, I do know a thing or two of the disasters that are bound to happen if a thirteen-year-old gets her way with liquid eyeliner, so I seriously don't want to see how she'll end up looking this time.

See, sometimes I worry that she might actually _be_ a slut, rather than just apply make-up like one. OK, 'worry' is, again, not the most accurate word here. Maybe, 'concerned in an uncaring big-sisterly way that my bratty sister's sluttiness might have repercussions on me as well, in that mom and dad might decide to limit my freedom in the conviction that I might get up to the same things Hallie does, only in a more covert way' is a better description of how I feel.

God, I really hope she manages to sneak out before dad sees her face.

I can't believe how Nikki can be best friends with Hallie. Nikki is thirteen too, but she acts so much more mature! First off, she's very pretty without looking remotely like a slut. Also, she doesn't date a different member of the school's football team every week, which would be _so _clichéd teen movie popular girl! Thankfully, Nikki's a little more original than that. God, I wish Nikki was my sister instead of Hallie! At least I wouldn't have to see Queen Brat of Brattonia every single day. Speaking of, here she is at the door.

'Hey Aud, will you lend me your red lipstick? I think I've lost mine.'

Can you believe the cheek? She's asking for more make-up! One of these days I'm seriously going to kick her out of the house and have her deported to some poor country with no memory of her past life and force her to work in one of Nike's soccer ball factories.

But for now, I'll play around a bit.

'Sure. Do you think there might be some make-up eating demon in the house? 'Cause I've lost my black eyeliner too. And my eye-shadow set.'

'Really? I'm sorry. Maybe it's a female demon! Geez, and I thought moving was gonna protect us from all that demon-y stuff. Anyway, I'll look around and tell you if I find anything.'

What? I can't believe this! She's even smiling! She's pretending she knows nothing at all and that she'll help me find my stuff! Maybe I could open a nice portal and get her sent to an alternate reality populated by bunnies alone, instead of a dark, dank factory where she's forced to do child labour... Yes, that would definitely be a more fitting revenge. Because, you know, Hallie's got rabbit-phobia, like mom. Ridiculous, really, to be scared of bunnies, when you can be scared of praying mantises.

I guess I'll have to go on with this conversation now. I wonder, should I continue with the pretending or should I yell at her? And I can't believe I'm even asking myself this.

'Well thanks ever so for your generous offer to help, Miss 'my own make-up is not enough for me so I feel compelled to steal my sister's'!'

'Hey, I didn't steal, I just…you know, borrowed!'

See, now she's doing that little grin thing that makes me feel horrible if I'm mean to her. But I'm not going to fall for it this time.

'If this happens again, even once, the next time he visits I'm gonna tell Angel you like him.'

Oh yes! Go me! Now, the grin's gone and she's got that look of pure terror, the eyes wide open kind, like that time I put a cuddly bunny toy under her blanket when she was seven and we were still sharing that huge bed at the Academy. God, that was funny! And she's stuttering now. She does that only when she's very scared. Hee hee!

'W-What? No! You w-wouldn't do that. You wouldn't, right? Please don't!'

She's had a crush on Angel ever since he visited last year. Since Buffy broke up with Daniel, like two years ago, Angel and Spike have been visiting way more often than before. It's so funny, they're all supposed to be over each other, but the two vamps are still trying to win Buffy's heart, and she still gets all upset whenever they get here, because she can't make up her mind. As if her love life wasn't already messed up enough, Daniel (who, by the way, is a total hottie) is making a move again to get her back. It's kind of a 'Far From the Madding Crowd' situation, only with the more modern setting and the freaky supernatural elements. Personally, I'd choose Spike right away! Those cheekbones…I'd die for those cheekbones. With Spike around, I can't believe Hallie and Buffy can actually like Angel. Yes, he's nice and all, but that forehead! Every time I look at it, I have to, like, turn around and breathe slowly ten times, otherwise I'll just burst out laughing in his face! But Hallie thinks it's sexy…at least, she started thinking so last year. She had seen him before but she's just newly entered that 'boys aren't just there to pull my hair' phase, so she's noticed him only now. He, of course, just sees her as 'Xander's daughter', so Queen Brat has no chance at all. Plus, he's like three hundred! Or was it two hundred? Still, he's way too old. Spike, instead, is so much younger…mmm, Spike…

I'm getting a weird stare now. Or maybe it's still a scared stare?

'Aud? Sis? You wouldn't, would you? I'm sorry, I-I'll never, ever take your make up again, ever! Did I mention your hair looks great today?'

I think I might let it go, just this once. She's doing the butt-kissing thing, it's actually quite funny. A little more glaring should do the trick. Oh, and some bitch-queeniness.

'My hair always looks great. Now leave my room and come back only if you're bleeding to death and there's no one else in a hundred-mile radius to save you. I'm not telling Angel anything on two conditions: I want my eyeliner and my eye shadow back before you leave, _and_ I want to see your make-up when you're done. If you look too much like a hooker, you're not leaving this house. Is that clear?'

I've got her mad now! She's doing that funny thing with her eyes, where the left one starts twitching and the right one narrows slightly. It usually means she's repressing anger. Or that she's confused. See, she doesn't have normal body language. She's a freak, really!

'Yes, it's clear. Mom.'

Mom, huh? She still isn't leaving, though. Why isn't she leaving?

'Why aren't you leaving?'

'You still haven't given me your lipstick.'

What a brat.

I really would have let it go this time, but her party's in an hour and Hallie still hasn't brought my make-up back. I need it! I'm going out tonight too, it's not like I don't have a life. We're all going to the Fishtank, me and 10 other WiTs. Albert asked me. I have a feeling he likes me. Yesterday, I caught him staring at me in Demon Physiology class, and that's got to be the fiftieth time that happens, so I'm thinking there's a pattern here. I'm dragging Julie along too, since I know Albert well but I'm not that close to his friends and I want someone not to share an awkward silence with. Plus, Julie told me she likes Graham, this impossibly square-jawed friend of Albert's, so if she comes with she might get a chance to get to know him, and I'd get to play matchmaker! Too bad Andrew isn't coming...which I understand, because he's like 20 years older than us and way cooler. I bet he's going out with his girlfriend. That bitch. I swear I'll murder her one day. I'll tell my Slayer (if they give me one) that she's a demon. That should do the trick. But then Andrew would be all miserable! No, I can't do that to him. God, this is a dilemma.

I bet they'll have sex tonight. That bitch.

I really should get going, I'm meeting Julie, Albert and two of his friends at the Academy (they all live there) in an hour and then we're going to the 'Tank, and I still have to do my make-up, not to mention my hair. I think it's time to go to Hallie's room and get back what I rightfully own.

I wonder if Nikki's here already. Buffy's giving her her evening Slayer workout instead of Faith while she and Mr. Wood are away getting three Chinese Slayers. Nikki's staying with us and I'm guessing she finished workout early today to get ready for the party. She's probably in Hallie's room, and she'll definitely be reasonable enough to help me get my stuff back. Yes, I can hear their voices, she's there. And there's someone else. I think it's Jessica, one of Hallie's school friends. Hallie, doing her best to avoid anything supernatural, has decided to go to a normal school rather than attend the Academy. Which I don't get. She might not be a Slayer like Nikki (I guess some things just run in the family) but she could have trained to be a Watcher. With all the Slayers in the world, there certainly is no surplus of Watchers!

Well, there's nothing I can do about it anyway. Apart from knocking and exacting sweet vengeance, (which I have yet to come up with a way to do), for her usurpation of my precious cosmetics. I am evil incarnate. Hear my evil laugh.

'Yes? What do you want?'

'Just my stuff back.' Oh, there they are. Nikki, Jessica and there's more! Sam and Kathy too. I think I know what to do to piss lil' sis off… 'Hey girls! How are you all? You going to the party too? Halfrek's been talking about it all week!'

There, I did it! Hallie's expression is priceless. I can tell she's mad, she's doing that eye thing for the second time today. Serves her right, though. I am so evil!

I guess I should explain. 'Hallie' is just a nickname. Her full name is actually Halfrek. Apparently, one of mom's vengeance demon friends was called Halfrek, and she got killed. Mom never really talks about it, but I think they were really close. Anyway, we've almost always called my sister just Hallie and she hates it whenever someone calls her Halfrek. I can't blame her, really! She gets really embarrassed (not to mention mad) when we do that in front of her friends. I used to do it all the time when we were little, but then mom and dad got all mad at me and told me to stop. Huh! Like I ever would lose such an opportunity to annoy her! So now, whenever she pisses me off, I just call her Halfrek and watch her cringe! I told you I was evil incarnate! Demon child me (literally).

I swear, if metaphors were real, she'd have smoke coming out of her ears right now.

'Here you go. Now get out.' God, she's really furious! Well, at least I have my make-up back. She's shutting the door in my face as I wave to the girls and give Nikki a wink which she returns with a grin.

Well, that was fun. Having a bratty sister does have its positive sides.


	3. The usual unusual

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the new characters and anyone else you don't recognise. Also, I don't own the neuralizer, and hope no-one will get mad in the movie-making industry if it gets, ahem, _briefly_ mentioned.

A/N: I apologise to the expectant throng of readers of this fic for the late update but hey, I'm on holiday. Also, you get a long chapter, with more Audreyness with a little Scoobiness and much Post-Chosenness. I hope you'll enjoy.

A/N 2 (Important): I just wanted to say something about a review. 'URGH!' reviewed saying that he/she was offended by something I wrote in chapter one. If you don't remember, basically it's Willow saying names with 'k's in them are weird, and the reviewer in question was offended by this. First of all, I wanted to apologise both to him/her and to whoever else might have had the same reaction upon reading that. Also, I wanted to make it clear that it was definitely not my intention to offend anyone. However, in my opinion (and I might be wrong) taking offence for something like that is not entirely justified. Firstly, what I write in a fic is not necessarily what _I_ think. For example, I could make somebody say Miss Kitty Fantastico is not cute or that Harry and Hermione should get married, but that's definitely not what I think. In this case, it was what I thought Willow _might _think. Not what I think, and not what is right. Also, if you read on in that part of the fic, it's made fairly clear that Willow is just being silly and that what she's saying doesn't make any kind of sense. So before getting offended, perhaps 'URGH!' should have read on to realise that everybody, including Willow and the author, thinks names with a 'k' are perfectly all right. After all, both my name and surname have a 'k' in them (not that that's relevant).

Also, thanks to xanya-forever for the tip. I'll see to that ASAP.

* * *

You can trust a night at the Fishtank not to be quite as normal as a night anywhere else. I have this suspicion that the Hellmouth might not be at the bottom of the lake like we've always thought, but under the bar at the Fishtank. Because really, the place is a demon magnet. A bit like Dad.

Yesterday night, I was sitting at said bar. Graham and Julie were making out a few feet away and Albert was chatting me up, I guess, while I was thinking in a slightly depressed way about Andrew and his girlfriend having sex. That came out wrong. I wasn't thinking of them having sex so much as thinking of the _idea_ of them having sex. Anyway, we were talking, nice and calm, and did I mention Albert has beautiful hands? In any case, there we all were, behaving like perfectly normal teenagers, when suddenly, around fifteen vampires in game face burst in. A few seconds of mass hysteria later, one guy, who was completely drunk, just goes there and stands right in front of the leading vamp, points a finger at him and says:

'Woah, man, what's up with your face?' And then, to his friend: 'Man, this stuff you gave me is real good!'

Which begs the question: 'Is alcohol all you had tonight?'

At this point, the leader prepares to spring forward and rip that guy's head off when an arrow flies out of nowhere and goes straight into his heart. So the guy's dust before he can say 'Huh?' Which is exactly what I was thinking at the time. Turns out, one of the girls in our little group was not a Watcher in Training but a Slayer. And, knowing the Fishtank's reputation for attracting hellspawn, she'd brought a crossbow with her. Where she managed to hide it is beyond my intellectual capacity, but at least, we had one less undead American prowling the land and looking for a helpless victim to feed on. Which is too bad. He might have run into Andrew's girlfriend. That bitch.

Anyway, at this point we were still badly outnumbered, fourteen vamps to 1 and a half Slayers (the half being all of us WiTs put together). So, Julie takes her state-of-the-art mobile out (the latest thing is the iris scanner instead of the PIN) and calls the Academy. Of course, since we don't live in Star Trek land, teletransportation is not an option (yet, but the Government's working on it) and we had to wait this one out and try to limit casualties until help got there.

So anyway, the vice-leader of the gang stepps up and yells: 'Slayer!' Which is so passé. Trust a bunch of newbies not to know they need to use the plural nowadays! Seriously, how clueless can you get? It's been sixteen years, wake up! I mean, even coming to the Hellmouth is not such a smart thing to do anymore. Yes, mystical energy abounds, but hey, so do Slayers! These vamps really had no clue. So anyway, this gang looked like they had enough brains between them to have a meaningful conversation with a caterpillar, so, on the whole, not very scary. And I think I was a little tipsy. More like very tipsy, because I just stood up and said: 'Yes, that's me.'

Can you believe that? I can't. Neither could Julie. Her mouth was literally hanging open, like in cartoons, and Graham, who up to then had ignored events and had been desperately trying to proceed with the make-out session, gave up to stare at me like I had three legs or something. Albert, on the other hand, just looked really worried. About me, you know. What a sweetie-pie!

Anyhow, fang-face goes: 'You killed our leader! You'll pay for that, bitch!'

'Oh yeah? Well I'm sorry, but I'm short of kittens right now. If you'll wait while I go to the ATM and back…'

Hey, it seemed funny at the time… I guess it was for someone, because two of the vampire gang actually started laughing before _real _Slayer-girl (who, I learned later, is called Liu An Qi and lactose intolerant) shot another arrow and dusted one of them. Now, it was their turn to panic. They all thought I had somehow shot that arrow without moving my arms, like I was uber-Slayer or something! So I turned to Liu An Qi and winked at her (in a very undetectable way) and continued with the role-playing.

'Who told you you could laugh?' I said to the other laughing vampire, at which he stopped laughing abruptly and pretended he was having a coughing fit.

Meanwhile, the new leader had gone, if possible, paler than before.

'Your stupid tricks don't scare us, Slayer! We're here to feed, and we're gonna feed! You'd better get out of our way if you wanna live.'

At this point, one woman in the club crawled out of the shadows, where the rest of the civilian population was pointlessly hiding, and positively screamed: 'Feed? You're here to feed? We can make food! This place has food! You don't have to hurt anybody, just let us go!'

Really! Couldn't she see the fangs? How stupid can you get? I bet she was Andrew's girlfriend. Anyway, it took me five seconds to prove that you can get even stupider than that:

'She's right. Why don't you let them go, so we can sort this out without interruptions?' Really, when did I turn so brave (and stupid)? It was like saying: 'Let them go so you can kill us instead!'

'Yeah, and next thing you're gonna ask me to take out my fangs!'

At which Liu An Qi fired yet another arrow right at leader n. 2, who promptly pulled Coughing Fit guy in front of him as a shield and then started sneezing because of the dust.

At this point, leader-vamp had had enough and they all rushed towards us, fangs out, yelling 'Death to the Slayer' and 'Kill her friends!'

'Well, Aud, that was smart, now we're screwed! Thank you for ending my young life!' Julie screamed at me. 'Oh, Graham, I'm so scar-' She stopped right there, because Graham was gone.

'Oh my God, what a jerk, he left me here to die all alone! I am so gonna kill you, you fu-' Luckily, a vamp was about to grab her at that time, so I had to push her away and interrupt the sentence, otherwise I might have been unable to conserve the strictly PG rating of this inner monologue of mine.

By then, I was in trouble myself. The leader was right there, stretching his arm to grab my neck. With the corner of my left eye, I saw Liu An Qi dispatching quite a few unsuspecting vamps and Julie setting one on fire with the candle lighting spell she learned at my last birthday from Willow. I thought I was about to die, like that time when I was five and Uncle D'Hoffryn dropped me outside the window and teleported to catch me right before I hit the ground. After I survived that, of course, he had to do it eighty-three more times that day until I got tired, because it was so much fun. Uncle D'Hoffryn is cool. Mom hates him, I don't know why, but I love him. He keeps sending me presents. He even sent me a squirmy pet thing (which I named Voldemort) that could actually learn to speak (before Hallie murdered it. Toasters are dangerous weapons.) How cool is that? That was for my eighth birthday where I also had my very first, full conversation, relevant to me eavesdropping experience; Mom vs. D'Hoffryn:

'The time is approaching, Anyanka. With your permission, I would love to take your daughter to visit Arashmahar, see how she likes it. She has vision, I can see it. Maybe not power (yet), but vision and creativity! She has reached her eighth birthday, and you know what that means. If she starts learning now, she could become one of the greatest vengeance demons in history! Will you deny her that, Anyanka? And, she'll get away from that inferior creature that is your husband. Let her come with me. After all, she is your daughter. She carries your chromosomes! She was born to be a vengeance demon! And if she doesn't like it, I'll let her leave Arashmahar and I will never ask again.'

And my mom was furious.

'Forget it, D'Hoffryn. My daughter is not going to become a vengeance demon, never, or my name is not Anyanka and even though it's technically not, that's off the point. It's final. No Demon-becoming or Arashmahar-visiting for Audrey, ever. That's it.'

'As you wish, Anyanka,' (he said this with a very melancholy air.) 'But do not forget that one day, she will come of age, and then she'll have to make her own choices. Don't you wish her to see the fire breathing, turquoise and purple striped flamingos of the Kingdom?' he added, with a fatherly smile.

Mom seemed to think this was a good point, but when she spoke, her tone was still very firm.

'No. And that's final. She's not going to end up like Hallie, if I can help it.'

At that time, the only person I knew named Hallie was my six year old little sister. I found her extremely ugly and annoying, so I happened to agree with Mom on that particular point.

After that, the conversation turned to more trivial matters, such as whereabouts in Manhattan should Uncle D'Hoffryn buy a house, so I went back to throwing teddy bears at Hallie.

Did I go off on a tangent or what? I really should get back to the action. As I was saying, I was on the brink of death when Arthur took a bottle of Holy Water out of his pocket and spilled it all over the vamp's face. Then, he pulled me away from it just in time for the cavalry's entrance. The usual in-town, small matters clean-up group, formed of Kennedy as leader and 5 other Slayers in constant rotation, was right there, fully armed and ready to kick some stinky vampire butt. We were saved. Yay!

After that, matters were quite routine. The vampires, sensing superior strength and therefore danger (which, we learned, is yet another one of their special abilities. As if they didn't have enough of those already!) stopped whatever they were doing to charge at the group of Slayers in order to eliminate said danger. Obviously, they had no idea they were fighting Slayers (and also, no chance), so the girls' job was beyond easy. What was a little harder to do was keeping every single civilian in the club long enough to neuralize them all. 'Neuralize' is actually not the right term to use. Technically, the process is called SELMERisation (SELMER stands for SELective MEmory Removal) but Dad insists on calling it Neuralization. He says the Government copied a movie, some old flick called 'Men in Black' (or 'Men in Slacks', I can't quite remember) so he keeps saying that and it stuck to me. (By the way, neuralizers are not the only cool gadgets we get. Working with the government has its advantages. Buffy got this cool freeze gun Andrew kept calling 'Warren's work of genius' and Mr. Giles got an amazing palm computer which contains every single book on demons, magic and the forces of darkness EVER written. We get loads of other stuff too, not to mention the patterned silk eye-patches Dad gets every week. And, we get free movie tickets.)

Anyway, back at the Fishtank, Kennedy was making the most of Government help. She flashed the SELMER ray around the club after giving all us non-civilians the 'close your eyes' signal (which is her yelling 'Acathla'. It works because only we know what it means so only we close our eyes. Buffy came up with it. I think it means 'close your eyes' in some old language. Sumerian, maybe. I'm not sure, we only start learning Ancient Sumerian next year. Aunt Dawn teaches it.) The way the SELMER works is that some sort of blue ray gets flashed at the target or targets and this does something to the synapses in their brain and reverses up to two hours of short term memory (you can change the settings from 1 minute to 117 minutes). After that, whoever's doing the reversing replaces the lost content with whatever they want to make up for the time slot. Apparently, all this was really familiar to Dad. As soon as he read the instruction booklet, when we first got the neuralizer, he was like: 'See? See how this is all copied from Men in Slacks? Everything's exactly the same! This is a conspiracy.' He still doesn't trust the Government. Something about 'Adam'.

So anyway, Kennedy invented a little story about how some kids in Halloween costumes had decided to make an appearance. It's what she says every single time, so it's surprising how nobody's realized yet she's making it up! But she does vary a little bit from time to time. The other time she said that everybody had realized that brushing your teeth is good. Today, it was: 'You had an enlightening conversation with someone and have come to the conclusion that homophobia is wrong.' How you can have any kind of conversation at the Fishtank is beyond me but the second part was good anyway. 'Two birds with one stone,' as the wise say.

After that we all went back to the Academy together to have a cup of cocoa. That's what we usually do when a crisis is over. We drink melted chocolate. Buffy and Willow came down too. Apparently, they'd been playing cards with Kennedy when we phoned but hey, they didn't come to save us! No-one cares. I think they were just glad to have some excuse to drink hot chocolate.

Albert cares though. He saved my life. How very sweet of him! If it wasn't for his Holy Water I'd be long dead. Of course, I had to thank him, so before Willow drove me home I went up to his room (he lives at the Academy).

'Albert?' I said from behind the door.

He opened the door and smiled. He has a nice smile.

'Hey Audrey. You okay?'

'Yes, I'm fine. I just wanted to thank you.'

'What for?'

'Well, for starters, you saved my life.'

At this, if possible, he smiled a wider smile.

'Oh. It was a pleasure.'

At that moment, my heart was beating so fast and I don't even know why. And also, I felt like I couldn't say another word, you know. And he still kept flashing that killer smile… So I just mumbled something like 'goodnight' and shuffled away and he didn't say anything, but I sort of _felt_ his eyes on me (I know, cheesy!), and in any case, I didn't hear the door close. So in that very confused state I let Willow drive me home. She asked me once or twice if I was okay but seeing I was not in conversation mode, she didn't push it. So that was it. It took me a while to sleep, and I even heard Hallie and Nikki come back so it must have been late when I finally did fall asleep. And the weird thing is, I don't even know what's going on. With Albert, I mean. And the insomnia.


	4. Thank God it's Friday

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and characters you don't recognise from the show.

A/N: Sorry for the late update. Here is a chapter in which not much happens but in which we get to delve into our little friend Audrey's exciting school life. Yay! Enjoy. (and review! Please.)

Thank God it's Friday. I can avoid Albert, _and _have time to study for the History exam we've got coming up on Monday. Of course, by History we don't mean the Cold War or the Ancient Greeks or anything like that. We focus more on demons (although Mr. Giles told me that there is evidence suggesting that Harry Truman and Sophocles were T'Gyshnak demons). Officially, it's called: 'Slayer Legacy and History of Evil' but you try writing 'Slayer Legacy and History of Evil Essay on …' or 'Slayer Legacy and History of Evil end of year Exam' every single time! I prefer calling it 'The hardest class ever'. And 90 of us poor WiTs would agree with me.

It's not like we're lazy. Not at all. In fact, we're all pretty much hard workers. The government calls Mr. Giles every six months and suggests names of those specifically fit for the job, meaning those who work hard and would not be pushed into catatonia when told about 'The Forces of Darkness', so it's not our fault if we all suck! Mr. Giles says it's not his fault either, and since we can't blame the vampires, as we seem to all suck during daytime as well, he says it must be our problem.

So there you have it. It's Friday, thank God, but it's not like I have a great weekend coming up. I have to attempt to learn the names of the 134 main branches of demon nobility and be able to place random famous demon names (such as 'the mighty Gopaulian') in the correct branch (in this case, that would be 'the Guyavian Clan of the Atlas Mountains'. Or not. Maybe I should check. Indeed, it's wrong. I am so going to fail.) Not to mention the dates and main events of countless wars which happened millions of years ago between the Old Ones (and at this point, please let me say that I couldn't care less about what happened between Rogestan and Illyria 239 million years ago). As if all this pressure wasn't enough, I have to try not to think about that thing with Albert too much, but at least I won't be seeing him for two days, if I can help it, so I might actually succeed.

Well, at least today I did well in the pop quiz (or poop quiz, as Dad says) Aunt Dawn gave us in Ancient Idioms of Demonic Usage (I know, all our classes seem to have awfully complicated names. It's intimidating). It was a few simple translations of typical Fyarl phrases, but little things in Fyarl language are really tricky; 'We' and 'someone' are spelt almost exactly the same, so it's really easy to get confused between 'Someone will eat you' and 'We will eat you' and therefore die. But I actually spotted the trick question and managed to avoid that mistake. Of course, I think I might have written balloon instead of knife somewhere, but at least I got the trick question right. Yay me!

Actually, I might have had a teeny bit of an advantage in this case because it so happens that Mr. Giles actually became a Fyarl demon for a day. Aunt Buffy told me all about it last year when I had to read Kafka for English class (in fact, 'the burden of the fight against the forces of darkness does not relieve us of the mortal coil that is standard education', as the amazing Andrew once said when assisting Mr. Giles in a lesson on the habits of M'Fashnik demons. He was trying to say that the algebra test we had the week after was not an excuse not to write that essay on mercenary demons). What was I saying? Oh yes, Kafka. Aunt Buffy told me all about Mr. Giles' little transformation, about how she almost killed him with a knife ('Rgywm' in Fyarl. And now I realise that I indeed wrote balloon instead of knife) and about the interesting parallels all this had with 'The Metamorphosis'. Which helped. And amazed me. Who knew Aunt Buffy read books? You know her. Sweet girl, not that bright. Which is a bit rich coming from 'she-who-wrote-balloon-instead-of-knife'.

I can't believe I wrote balloon instead of knife.

OK, I'm over it now.

Speaking of, Julie is totally over Graham. She says he's a jerk who left her to die all alone and that anyway, she doesn't like square-jawed guys. Pff. When she heard Johnny Depp was getting married she said she didn't like beautiful men anyway.

Oh dear. I've passed 15 minutes doing absolutely nothing. I still don't know what branch the mighty Gopaulian belonged to or who won the Rogestan v. Illyria war. Although I should remember because we actually met Illyria. She came to visit two years ago with the rest of the Fang Gang. Angel and Spike 'coincidentally' decided to 'come and see how everyone's doing' the week after Buffy broke up with Daniel. Which was funny. Anyway, Illyria came along too and Mr. Giles did a special lesson on the Old Ones, to which Illyria participated. I remember thinking that she was certainly not old-looking. She looked more blue than anything else. I also remember thinking 'pff. Men,' as I saw half the guys in the class literally drooling. Anyway, Illyria told us all about how in the glorious years when she possessed tentacles, she would use them to strangle inferior beings and squeeze their life juices out. She also said that she was the greatest of all Old Ones and it took a fantastic stroke of luck by a certain Yorkabuld to confine her to her prison in the Deeper Well. Unfortunately, she didn't mention Rogestan. But she did speak funny. She kept saying that humanity was the scourge of the Earth and that although she had given up on her plans of total extermination of the human race, she certainly did not think them worthy of populating the planet which had once belonged to her and only her.

Whatever.

I can't seem to concentrate. I therefore have every excuse to not bother with studying for now and turn instead to the much more interesting activity of daydreaming. About (a fully clothed) Albert. I meant Andrew, not Albert. _Andrew_. Ahem.


	5. Goodmorning!

Disclaimer: Do I have to do this every single time? I do not own anything except the plot and characters you don't recognise.

A/N: Thank you to all those who reviewed the last chapter. I was overwhelmed. I've never gotten more than 3 reviews per chapter and I was so happy that I felt inspired enough to write my quickest update ever! Also, my longest update ever. The break from the first person POV is temporary. I just wanted to try something different. Enjoy! Review! Thank you! Exclamation mark!

* * *

It is a morning like any other morning at the Harris household. As always, Mrs. Harris is already up and about making breakfast for her dears. Today, it will be perfectly round pancakes. Mrs. Harris doesn't like funny shapes.

She glances at the egg-shaped clock next to the fridge, and noticing that it is already 7:30, decides she's just in time to wake her daughters up.

'Hallie! Audrey!' she yells. They promptly wake up. Mrs. Harris' voice carries.

The two Harris sisters are very different in terms of the whole 'waking up issue', as Audrey calls it. As always, Audrey stumbles all the way out of her room and feels her way to the bathroom. She has to resort to these extreme measures because she momentarily lacks the gift of sight; in fact, Audrey Harris is one of those people who wake up every morning thinking: 'Everything here is so bright!' and consequently decide to keep their eyes shut for as long as they can.

For Audrey, this corresponds to the length of the trip from her room to the bathroom. She eventually gets there, as she does every morning, only to notice that Halfrek is already in there. For a change.

Strangely enough, she can't be bothered right now to argue with her sister.

'Hallie, wake me up when you're done, okay?'

'Whatever,' Hallie attempts to say, although it comes out more as 'uauavar'. Hallie is, in fact, in the process of rubbing some cream on her face. Poor thing! She still hasn't reached the age in which she will eventually accept the fact that she can't possibly be completely zit-free and that no amount of miracle cream will do that to her.

By now, of course, Audrey Harris has learnt to decipher anything that her sister thinks passes as speech, and with a generic movement of her shoulders (she doesn't quite have the energy for a full-force shrug), she turns around to go back to her room and get those 5 extra minutes of sleep which will completely rejuvenate her.

She is stopped, however, at mid-step by her mother's voice yelling:

'Aud, sweetie, don't go back to sleep!'

The narrator shall open a parenthesis here and briefly mention how since becoming a mother, Mrs. Harris seems to have acquired the extraordinary ability to hear sounds beyond the normal human range of decibels. In this case, despite being on the first floor of the house, in the kitchen, and with the sound of pancakes being cooked, she has heard of her daughter's intention of going back to sleep. If the narrator had poetic tendencies, she would describe the house as an amphitheatre and Mrs. Harris as the stage. Everything is so perfectly constructed that everybody hears what she says and she hears what everybody else says. But the narrator is not a poet, so she will not make this comparison.

The parenthesis has now been closed.

At Audrey's legitimate wish to get more sleep, one might think, 'so what?' It is obvious that whoever should have the inexperience to think that is not aware that if Audrey Harris is not forcibly restrained from going back to sleep after waking up once, it becomes Mission: Impossible 8 to wake her up again. Since unfortunately the Harris family does not have Tom Cruise handy, they cannot allow Audrey to go ahead with her evil plan. It so happens that such is the situation every single morning.

So Mrs. Harris yells again, just to make sure:

'Audrey! You're not going back to bed are you?'

As a matter of fact, she was. But she's not going to say that. Instead, she says:

'Mother! My God, have you got Dumbo ears? Can't anyone have any privacy in this house any more? Should I stop talking on the phone now just because you've got demonic ears or something?'

The sleepy girl then throws a little tantrum in which she makes high pitched sounds of annoyance and stomps her feet. Hallie can be heard laughing from within the bathroom.

'Honey, you're going to wake your father up!'

'Whatever! Why does he get to sleep anyway? This is so unfair! Everything here is so bright!'

One might notice from that last comment that Audrey has attempted and failed to open her eyes. But before she gets the chance for another tantrum, Hallie opens the bathroom door, fully dressed and looking as fresh as a rose (thus the different morning routines of the two sisters become very clear). She seems to be wearing a shorter skirt than usual, which is peculiar, as it is raining outside.

Audrey chooses to ignore this for the time being and heads into the bathroom where after a splash of cold water on her face and everything else one does in a bathroom, she stops thinking that everything is so bright and reacquires the ability to open her eyes.

However, her legs still don't seem to be responding too well and she almost trips on the carpet on her way downstairs.

Mrs. Harris, of course, hears.

'Honey, be careful! You don't want to fall down the stairs again, now, do you?'

'Gee, mom, thanks for the tip!'

'No problem, sweetheart!'

This, of course, all works like a charm. Next thing you know, Audrey Harris is falling down the stairs. She thinks she's going to die, like that time her uncle d'Hoffryn dropped her out of the…oh wait, you know that one already.

She doesn't die this time either. She doesn't even get hurt. But she does get pissed. Meanwhile, Hallie, who's already in the kitchen, laughs.

'Audrey, did you fall down the stairs again?'

'Yes mom.'

Mrs. Harris' curiosity seems to have already been satisfied.

'And I'm fine, no broken limbs or anything. THANKS FOR ASKING!' Audrey says rather too loudly.

'You're welcome.'

Audrey throws another tantrum, on a smaller scale this time, and it goes unnoticed.

Finally, after much moaning on Audrey's part and much laughing on Hallie's part, three quarters of the Harris family manage to sit themselves at the table and start to eat.

Audrey notices how perfectly round her pancake is.

'Mom, did you use compasses again?'

'No. I don't need compasses. I can make perfectly circular pancakes freehand. Like Giotto. I actually met Giotto, you know. Oh, and don't tell your father this, but I modelled for him!'

'Wow! Mom, was it a nude?'

'No, he was trying to draw harpies, so I showed him my demon face. I actually appear in quite a few paintings of his. But don't tell your father, you know him, he'd just get jealous and think I posed nude. Which I did.'

Her daughters look at Mrs. Harris open-mouthed.

'It's true. Oh, but not for Giotto,' Mrs. Harris adds.

'Oh!' both girls nod.

'Did I just hear nude? Who's nude?'

'Xander, you're awake? I thought you didn't have any meetings this m-'

The reader will be understandably wondering why Mrs. Harris has not concluded her sentence. The mystery has a very simple explanation indeed. Instead of the usual business suit his girls see him wearing every day (for Mr. Harris, when not involved in teaching self-defence to the non-mystically endowed at the Academy, is one of the top managers of a construction firm and always wears suits. His wife proudly calls him the American dream made human) Mr. Harris has made his appearance today dressed in a red tracksuit. It would appear to the casual observer that he is going jogging. Of course, anyone who actually knew Mr. Harris would know that he would never bring himself to waking up early every morning to actually engage in said activity.

Which explains why Mrs. Harris has stopped speaking.

Mr. Harris gives a small bow and declares:

'Behold, the master of fitness.'

His girls just gape.

'Dad, why are you dressed like that?' Hallie manages to get out before resuming the gape-fest.

'I'm going jogging!' Mr. Harris exclaims, beaming.

'Yes but why are you going jogging?'

At this, Mr. Harris narrows his eyes and looks at his wife, shaking his head. So Mrs. Harris starts telling her daughters just exactly what's gotten into their father.

'Well, your dad and I were just about to-'

'-watch infomercials!' Mr. Harris interrupts, laughing nervously.

Mrs. Harris rolls her eyes. 'Whatever. Your dad and I were just about to watch infomercials last night when-'

This time, it is Halfrek who interrupts. 'It's OK, dad, she can say sex.'

'Sex? Sex? How do you know about sex?' Mr. Harris looks like a deer caught in floodlights. Flustered, to say the least. Mrs. Harris thinks it's quite cute.

Audrey and Hallie look at him like that was the silliest question they'd ever heard.

'Mom,' they say in unison, as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

Mr. Harris gulps.

'Can I go on now? Thank you. So, your dad and I were just about to watch infomercials when I told him that he wasn't exactly ageing well.'

'She said I'm getting chubby!'

'And then, his eye became beadier than usual, and he said:' Mrs. Harris continued, and in a rather poor imitation of her husband's voice: 'Ahn! You killed it! And he just turned around and went to sleep and I had to watch infomercials all alone! And I still think he's chubby.'

For a few seconds, nobody says anything. Mr. Harris looks at his daughters hoping they'll support him. But they don't.

'Well, she's not entirely wrong,' says Audrey, shrugging.

'See? I told you!'

'No! You girls are so mean! Auds, I can't believe this, I thought you said I was the most beautiful man on Earth!'

'I was seven when I said that, dad. Anyway, it's not like you can't be beautiful and chubby at the same time.'

'But…but…' Mr. Harris looks very very dejected. A bit like a kicked puppy.

Halfrek takes pity on him. 'I don't think you're chubby, dad,' she says, smiling at him.

Mr. Harris grins. 'Suck up!' Audrey whispers, smirking. Her father looks satisfied.

'So you're not going jogging anymore? Besides, I heard that sometimes, joggers just drop dead for like no reason when they're fifty or something,'

'Oh, that's a myth,' Mrs. Harris states, ready to destroy yet another convention. First, it was Father Christmas. Now this.

'Oh, so it doesn't happen?'

'Oh no, it does happen. It's a myth that there's no reason. Sometimes, anyway. There's this demon, Jilfoypogh. It feeds on joggers,'

'That's horrible!'

'I know. But anyway, demon or no demon, there's no reason to worry about your dad. It's not like we could expect him to jog regularly. At least not for more than a week.'

'Why?' the other three say, Mr. Harris' face a mask of pure indignation.

'Because he's lazy. You know, like Homer Simpson.'

Oh dear! This does not look good!

'Anya!'

'Who's Homer Simpson?'

'Except, of course, that your father is a lot less yellow, a little less chubby and has more hair. Not much more of that, though.'

'What? Excuse me, I have hair! I am the master of the hairy head! Look! Look! It's so strong and dark! I have hair!'

'Audrey, do you have any idea who Homer Simpson is?'

'Nah. It must be one of the weird pop culture references they make because they're old.'

'Oh.'

'Girls, am I bald?'

'Well, you're not exactly bald…'

'Finally someone on my side!'

'But you're bald_ing_.'

'What? No! What?'

'Xander, it's OK, I won't find you less sexy because you're bald. In fact, I find it virile. Anyway, you can just shave your head and it'll look like you actually had a choice.'

'That's true.'

'But I'm not balding!'

'It's OK, honey, just take a deep breath. You're not the only man in the world who's balding. Even Brad Pitt is balding.'

'But I'm not balding!'

'Of course you're not, sweetie.'

'I think Brad Pitt looks great anyway.'

'Oh, about that, I was reading one of mom's old Cosmos the other day and there was a poster of him inside one. You can have it if you want.'

'Really? Oh my God, Aud, thank you so much!'

'It's OK, I'll give it to you later.'

'Thanks! You know I have an algebra test today?'

'You have algebra tests every day.'

'Pretty much.'

'Is that why you're even less dressed than usual? For teacher seduction purposes? I remind you that you're still underage.'

'I'm not seducing! I just value presentation in the workplace.'

'Yeah. Right.'

'Honey, I'd tend to agree with your sister on this one. You don't have to go to school looking like Ally McBeal just because you have an algebra test.'

'Who's Ally McBeal?'

'A friend of Homer Simpson's, I guess.'

'Oh.'

It is starting to get late and the girls get their lunches and bags. Since Mr. Harris is up so early, he'll drive his girls to school. On the way, he'll drop his wife at the Academy. It's really close anyway.

And thus, yet another Harris morning is concluded. It has stopped raining and it looks like the Sun is going to show up. Whatever might happen with our hydrogen fuelled star, our happy family certainly doesn't seem to need it much to be happy.


End file.
